


No More Excuses

by memewife



Series: Wayhaven Week 2020 [5]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Ava angsts, F/F, Someone made me think of the there's only one bed trope, and then plays herself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:09:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25302121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memewife/pseuds/memewife
Summary: There had only been two rooms left by the time she’d gotten approval to call and make reservations. Two rooms to be split between five occupants. An annoying, but overall minor setback. At least, that’s what Ava had thought before she’d briefed Unit Bravo on the arrangement.---Only having one bed to a room really does just crank Ava's guilt and angst up to 20
Relationships: Female Detective/Ava du Mortain
Series: Wayhaven Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1827400
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	No More Excuses

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 5 for Wayhaven Week 2020: Guilt/Forgiveness. There's a little of both here ;)

Ava runs a hand through her hair with a drawn-out sigh. This was absolutely not how this was supposed to go. Travel arrangements were made at the last minute to track a roaming supernatural, and if she didn’t know better, it was like someone was actively trying to punish her, to test her. There had only been two rooms left by the time she’d gotten approval to call and make reservations. Two rooms to be split between five occupants. An annoying, but overall minor setback. At least, that’s what Ava had thought before she’d briefed Unit Bravo on the arrangement. 

Nat and Farah had exchanged a quick look before Nat jumped in and offered to share with Farah and Morgan. Farah practically squealed, Morgan balked, but didn’t protest. The moment Ava had opened her mouth to protest, Nat added that staying with Ava would be the best for Irena’s security. Finally, Irena herself piped up:  _ “I feel safe around you, Ava. It’s a good idea.”  _ The words had made Ava’s stomach contort, just the same as it twisted now as she lies in bed, stiff next to the sleeping detective. 

Her blind confidence in Ava is disarming. Beyond that, it’s worrying. Ava remembers all those months ago when Irena told her that she’s not a monster. Sweet and well-intentioned as it was and as wretchedly happy as it had made her, the memory stings. It’s reckless of her to allow Irena to keep thinking she’s a protector, but she wants it so desperately that it disgusts her. 

Beside her, Irena stirs, turning in her sleep to face Ava. It only makes her tense further. Warm breath tickles her arm and sends a shiver down her spine, making her curse herself once again for allowing Irena to insist that they share the single bed in the room. Ava argued, of course, that the  _ human  _ needed far more rest than her, but Irena responded with the usual mix of kindhearted concern and logic that Ava finds far more compelling than she should.  _ “Ava, you need rest if you’re going to perform your best. We have a long road ahead of us. We need you. I need you. I’ll be worried about you.” _ She rolls her lips into a thin line, then frowns. She’d given in just to get Irena to hurry up and sleep. At least, that’s what she’s attempting to assure herself. She absolutely wasn’t, certainly isn’t currently, savoring the way heat prickles across her skin at the proximity, the promise of near-contact.

Ava forces her eyes away from the detective, urging herself to let go, detach. Unfortunately, it proves difficult. The image of thick, dark lashes over pale skin and rosy cheeks sticks with her. It’s peaceful and comforting. Almost enough to make her relax a bit. That is, until Irena nuzzles into her side and flings and arm over her with a pleased hum. Ava tenses again, a wave of guilt washing over her as she fights the thought that it feels good. Gingerly, she extracts her arm, instead allowing it to hover by Irena’s back. The detective only nestles further into her, though, and Ava groans audibly. Too much. She’ll have to wake her.

“Irena.” Ava’s voice is gravely from lack of use, but warm and gentle. She betrays herself further when she allows her fingers to graze against the exposed skin of Irena’s shoulder.  _ She deserves to be woken softly.  _ Reasoning aside, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to deny that she’s enjoying this. Holding someone who she values far more than her own life, someone who walks the line between being fragile and resilient so resolutely. This is a moment Ava knows she will cherish after she finds the strength to do what’s best for Irena. With the distraction of her thoughts, what was once little more than shoulder tapping morphs into something more like a loose embrace. “Irena, please wake up.” Her voice is a little louder this time.

Ava freezes as Irena shifts, pushing herself up onto an elbow and rubbing at bleary eyes. “What? Is it time to go already?” Even as she says it, she knows it’s not. Slow-adjusting as her vision is, there’s nowhere near enough light for morning. She doesn’t make any sort of indication that she’s noticed the closeness or Ava’s hand resting at her shoulder.

“You got very close to me.” She looks away for a moment before she’s drawn in again by hazel eyes that appear a deep brown in the dark. “I thought you should know.” Irena stares at her for a moment, mind attempting to work through the sleep. Then Ava feels her heart race.

“Did it make you uncomfortable?” Irena squints, attempting to read her vampire companion’s face in the dark.

“I...” Ava trails off, hesitating as she desperately tries to compose herself again. She needs to think through this logically. Practically, she does have to admit that having the detective close helped ease her nerves, which will allow her to sleep and maintain peak performance. She also knows that it seems as though Irena sought her out in her sleep anyway. It would be detrimental to continue to wake her every few hours over something so small. She forces herself not to think about how warm and soft the detective feels. Before she’s able to finish thinking it through, Irena cuts in, smiling sheepishly.

“Oh, I get it. Sorry about that.” She starts to shift back, smile deflating, and Ava frowns. At the very least she has no trouble keeping her face stern this time.

“Let me finish.” Irena pauses, curiosity plain. “If you feel safer that way and believe it will help you sleep soundly, I don’t mind.” Ava’s composure wanes as Irena wastes no time snuggling back into her, resting her head on her shoulder. They’ve been this close before, but never in this sort of situation. In bed, it just feels more intimate. “It’s for the sake of the mission,” Ava mumbles, answering a question Irena had no intentions of asking. Irena simply yawns and drapes an arm back over Ava’s torso.

“You know, it’s okay if you enjoy it. I do.” Predictably, Ava tenses. There’s a short quiet punctuated only by the sounds of their hearts.

“I can’t.” Her voice is hard, but at the very least, her body relaxes. Irena already knew that would be the response. She shakes her head, eyelids fluttering shut.

“I hope you let yourself someday.” Ava’s arm finally settles at her back, putting only the slightest bit of weight against her. “I think you deserve it.” She doesn’t respond, but Irena knows Ava heard her. That’s all she needs. Just some consideration of what she’s thinking. Feeling safe, warm, and content in Ava’s arms, it’s little surprise that sleep claims Irena quickly. What  _ is  _ surprising is that Ava allows her eyes to close. It’s just one night. She can indulge herself for one night, while nobody is awake to notice.  _ Perhaps then I’ll be able to get this infatuation out of my thoughts _ . Even as she makes the excuse to herself, she knows it’s hopeless.

The detective will never truly be far from Ava’s mind. Already, it’s clear that this wound will be left raw as centuries continue to pass, never truly healing. She will not make it worse for either of them by putting Irena into greater danger. She’s come too close already, and she knows she’ll have to stop this all soon. Guilt makes her chest heavy once again. It’s bad that she’s allowed the detective to have hope for so long, but it’s far better than the alternative. She could never forgive herself if her careless extravagance caused Irena harm, of that she is unwaveringly certain.

In that moment, though, Ava feels weak. She makes one last bargain: one night of closeness, then she’ll do what must be done. Irena may not forgive her, but she’s wondering if that’s not what’s best for her. Ava will carry that hurt with her forever. Irena can forget. Move on. Like humans do. Ava swallows thickly as Irena nuzzles into her again. She can feel her resolve starting to slip quickly. Her hand tightens into a fist.

No more excuses. Ava loses herself to the steady, slow rhythm of the heart beating next to her, and some deep part of her that she refuses to acknowledge tells her that she’ll find a new flimsy justification tomorrow. But that’s tomorrow, and tonight she allows herself a little indulgence. 


End file.
